


Karaoke Night (You are My Sunshine)

by small_flower



Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: CW: Shitty singing, Crew as Family, Dancing and Singing, Drunken Confessions, F/F, Fluff, Karaoke, Picard sings the Beatles, Protect Elnor at All Costs, References to Voyager, Singing, Slice of Life, The crew is Actually Feral, You Are My Sunshine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23666044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/small_flower/pseuds/small_flower
Summary: On La Sirena's weekly karaoke night, Seven of Nine takes the time to remaster an old song learned from her days on the Voyager.
Relationships: Raffi Musiker/Seven of Nine
Comments: 9
Kudos: 41





	Karaoke Night (You are My Sunshine)

“And that was a beautifully delivered rendition of Yesterday by our very own Admiral Picard!” Mr. Hospitality announced cheerfully. The rest of the crew clapped as the admiral returned to his seat, murmuring words of approval. 

“Now, as per Karaoke Night regulations, the next singer will be chosen according to the spinner.” The hologram walked over to a holographic spinner that was as tall as himself, with the names of everyone displayed on top. 

The whole room watched with bated breath as the spinner slowed down to land on Raffi’s name. 

“Oh, fuck me,” Raffi groaned as she stood up, taking a mic as she did. Elnor looked disappointed that it wasn’t his name that was called, while Agnes grinned in relief, taking another bite of her chocolate cake. 

“Now what would you like to sing? Anything is acceptable, of course, but bear in mind that we did decide on a theme of 20th century Earth selections, which really was more work for me than anyone, considering I had to chase you all for your ballots one week prior…”

“Yes, I heard you,” Raffi said. “Summer of ’69.”

“Oh, this should be fun.” Rios sat forward in his seat. Then he shrank back when Raffi actually began singing. “Oh, God.”

Soji cringed and looked away, chewing on the knuckle of her thumb. Agnes downright winced. Picard sat there, trying to look polite, but was very evidently uncomfortable. 

“Sword boy.” Rios gestured to Elnor for his attention. “Have you ever wondered what a cat sounds like when it’s mating?” 

“It’s like… that?” Elnor shifted in his seat with discomfort. 

“Where else did you think the word  _ caterwauling  _ came from?” Agnes muttered. 

“It doesn’t sound good,” Elnor said awkwardly. “I may like cats less now.” 

“I like Raffi less now,” Rios said, reaching for a bottle of vodka. 

“Rios! Join me for a dance break!” Raffi yelled over the noise of the backing track. 

“How drunk are you?” 

“Drunk enough, baby. You know you want to.” 

“If you’re lucky maybe you can switch her mic for a bottle when she’s not looking,” Agnes laughed, nudging him out of his seat. “I’d like to see that myself,” Elnor said eagerly. Raffi looked at the two of them with betrayal in his eyes. “You insufferable little…” 

“Go,” Seven said in amusement, an arm draped over the couch. Rios narrowed his eyes at her, but they both knew that he was too scared of her to say no. 

What ensued was a hilarity of air guitars, frantic head swinging and impromptu dance sequences, to which everyone whooped and whistled. The loudest cheers, however, were for Rios when he finally managed to wrangle the mic from Raffi’s hands. Finally, the song ended with the pair leaning against each other back to back, with Raffi feeling very much like a pop star, and Rios very much feeling like a hero. 

“Do everyone a favour and never pick up a mic again,  _ mija _ ,” Rios said, kissing Raffi on the cheek as he escorted her back. 

“Gladly.” Raffi reached for a fresh bottle of whiskey and flicked the cap off, never to be found again. Not that she would need it. 

“Now that that’s done,” Mr. Hospitality said with an awkward chuckle, getting the attention of the room once more. “Next to go… Seven of Nine!” 

“Seven!” Elnor interjected, his eyes shining with excitement. 

“What would be something appropriate to sing?” Seven asked her audience, suddenly looking nervous. 

“Nothing big, I imagine, it is your first Karaoke Night, after all,” Picard said encouragingly. “Whatever you are comfortable with.” 

“Very well. You Are My Sunshine, with instrumentals.” 

“Oh! A very famous folk song,” Soji said with a smile. 

“Really? Seven and folk songs?” Raffi raised her eyebrow, taking another swig. “She seems more like a heavy metal type to me.” 

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“Everyone, if I must request, hush! Seven is about to perform.” Picard said, waving his hand.

Seven gave a sheepish chuckle, and then: 

“ _ The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms.” _

“Holy shit.” Raffi’s jaw dropped. She sounded so good. Could it be? Maybe she was just drunk. Another sip of alcohol ought to remedy that. 

The thing was, the more she drank, the  _ better _ Seven sounded. Her voice sounded like the trumpets of heaven, though it really was less to describe the sound than the feeling that she had sparked in Raffi’s heart. It felt warm like a summer’s day, enchanting like a siren’s call, and yet it felt no different than the lullabies that her mother would sing to her when she was younger. 

For the longest time, Seven had always felt distant to her, no matter how hard she tried to get closer. But her voice felt like home. It was a pillow fort for her to burrow herself in, it was the sweetness of the strawberries she used to grow in the backyard, it was the soft candlelight around the house whenever the power went out. Her heart stopped, and she continued to clutch her bottle long after she had drained it. 

Seven kept singing. 

“ _ You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey.” _

Resonance. There was a word for it. There was a word for when the sound of her voice was so perfect that it echoed in Raffi’s heart, over and over again. Raffi was dissonant not only in her singing but her speech, and indeed her life itself was discordant, lacking the comfort of harmony. But Seven took her struggles and she made them fly with her voice, and suddenly she only looked more beautiful, to make beauty from discord. 

_ “You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”  _

Raffi found herself mouthing the words along with Seven like a prayer.

When she finally finished she was met with a chorus of encouraging applause, with Soji and Elnor pelting her with awestruck compliments as soon as she returned to her seat. “Very beautiful, Seven,” Picard said with a fond smile. Too stunned to say anything else, Raffi took Rios’ bottle, raised it to her, and took another deep drink. 

The rest of the evening passed in a blur to Raffi; she had almost passed out by the time Agnes and Rios, in their second round of singing, did a horrible rendition of a song by an old band named ABBA… or something. But then Picard turned in for the night, and Elnor left to escort him as well. Soji left soon after as well, saying that her fingers had begun tingling from the champagne. 

Agnes looked close to throwing up from all the excitement, and Rios was out cold, so they left too, before they could make a mess of the holodeck. That left Seven, nursing her bourbon, and Raffi, who was still miraculously sober enough to think, but only barely. 

“Perhaps I should leave as well,” Seven said after a while of awkward silence. “No, wait,” Raffi said, her words coming out slurred and jumbled. “Computer… deactivate EHH.” 

The indignant look on his face was the last thing they saw before he disappeared for good. “Never liked him anyway,” Raffi said, sitting up. 

“Did you wish to say something?” Seven asked, leaning back into her seat. She didn’t seem to mind, and her eyes were curious. Raffi took that as a good sign. 

For a while, she pondered how to tell Seven that her voice had been one of the most heavenly things she’d ever heard. She wondered how to tell her that she had been a great comfort in the weeks since she came aboard the  _ La Sirenna _ , and how ashamed she was of herself that she only realised that after hearing the damn girl sing. She thought about how to hide three words in a barrage, that she could finally speak her mind without Seven realising it. 

“You… you have a nice voice.” 

“Do I?” Seven gave a cynical chuckle. “The Gift is from the Collective. A vocal subprocessor designed to facilitate the sonic interface with Borg transponders." Her reply sounded measured, as if it was an automated response to every compliment she had ever received. 

“I’m too drunk to understand what you just said, but that’s still you. Borg, human, I don’t care.” 

“Thank you for saying that,” Seven said with a smile. “Many have been quick to dismiss my gifts once they’ve learned that they were not… my own, in a way.”

“To hell with them.” Raffi sat closer to Seven. “I thought you were exquisite.” 

“That’s a strong word.”

  
“I’ve been drinking strong stuff.”

“Figures.” Seven set her own glass down, turning to face her. “Raffi --” 

“Seven --”

They both stopped and glanced away. “Er, you first,” Seven said. 

“I don’t know what you see perfection as, Seven, but I thought that performance was pretty much it. Nah, scratch that, I think that you’re pretty much it.” 

“Borg perfection has long been obsolete in my eyes, unattainable, and to my knowledge being human means that there is no perfection -- wait.” Seven narrowed her eyes. “Are you hitting on me?”

An awkward silence began to sediment between the two of them. “What if I was?” Raffi mumbled. 

“Honestly? Thank God, because I’m too chicken to make the first move.” Seven sighed in relief, and she looked at Raffi with a smile. 

“You? A badass xB Ranger?” 

“I can get shy,” Seven admitted, fiddling with her fingers. “Not that you should tell anyone.” 

“I won’t,” Raffi assured her. Absentmindedly a hand went up to tuck a stray strand of hair over her ear. “Have I ever told you that you had a beautiful voice?”

“Five minutes ago.” 

“Well, I’ll say it again. I can’t sing half as well as you, and God forbid I try, but I hope you know that every word in that song, I want to say to you for as long as I live.” In response, Seven reached out her hand and laced it with Raffi’s, the steel cold against her skin. “You know,” she said, watching their fingers play, “when I was first taught this song I did not understand it. But just now, when I sang to everyone, to you, I knew who the words were for. And then I understood the full appeal of this song. Simple, but a timeless description of love.”

“You make such a thing of pretty words,” Raffi murmured. “You know, I can’t sing, but I can play the guitar. Have one lying in my quarters.”

“Not tonight,” Seven said firmly. “We are way too drunk to do this properly.” 

Raffi pouted, but she knew that Seven was right. If they were to start anything, she would rather they did it in the day, when she would actually  _ remember. _ “Alright, fine. You headed back?” 

“Yes. Good night.” She stood to leave and was almost out the door, but then she turned around. A little stiffly, she bent and pressed a kiss to Raffi’s cheek, gave her an awkward nod, and then hurried away, looking very flustered.

Raffi’s fingers grazed the spot where her lips touched. She didn’t have a mirror on her, but already she felt the faint waxiness of lipstick that stained her face.

She would keep it there until the morning. If only to help her remember what happened tonight. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know if you'd be interested in a "Morning After" vignette! Or throw prompts at me on [my tumblr ](https://chateaupicard.tumblr.com) if you want to see me write more R7 :) 
> 
> I would be very grateful if you would like to [support my work!](buymeacoff.ee/i5IDq2F)


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